He's Always Been Everything
by xonceinadream
Summary: She should be with her husband not her lover. Her lover should be her husband. But that isn't the way things are.


Her breaths are coming in short gasps, her body limp as she strokes her fingers slowly through her lover's hair. They shouldn't be here. They shouldn't be naked in bed together; his lips shouldn't be pressed against her skin. They shouldn't be covered in sweat after an enthusiastic session of lovemaking. They shouldn't but they are.

His touch feels like fire. It always has. In her sixth year when she was constantly being punished by unqualified professors, his touch was everything. He'd pull her aside, berate her for her impulsive words and rub salves of different sorts on her cuts and burns. There was no regret for her defiance but she knew the only way she survived was him.

"You're thinking again."

"I tend to do that," she responds drily, giving his hair a playful tug. He scrapes his teeth across her skin in response, making her shiver.

It's him. It's always been him. If only she'd realized it back then. She'd been hearing of Harry Potter since she was young. He was in bedtime stories that her father told, picture books that her mother read to her, tales of warning from both of her parents. It was only natural that she'd fall a little bit in love with him. He was a hero. Through impossible odds, he'd survived and conquered. She wanted to be just like him.

Then she'd met him and Ron had become friends with him. And her crush had intensified. It was only natural. Ron sent her and their parents owls about how wonderful Harry was, about the adventures they were having. In her first year at Hogwarts, Harry had rescued her. He was only a year older than her but he was a hero over and over again.

Unlike Draco.

She still thinks there's a part of her that hates Draco for everything that he's done.

It's not as strong as the part that loves him.

She doesn't know when it happened. It wasn't in her second year when he'd harass her, call her names and pull her hair whenever they passed in the corridors. It certainly wasn't in her third year when he shoved her against a wall and told her she would never amount to anything after she taunted him for being turned into a ferret. It probably wasn't in her fourth year when he seemed to notice her growing up, mocking her for it.

Her fifth year was when he changed, but not for the better. Nobody knew about the Dark Mark on his skin but they all saw the differences in him. Instead of insulting them, he seemed to be tired of it all. There was no more Quidditch banter or hair tugging. Maybe it was fifth year when she realized she _missed_ him. She missed his lingering looks, his words that varied between sharp and teasing. She missed who he was.

"Tell me what you're thinking about," he whispers, a request that would've been filled with insecurity years ago but only has curiosity now. He knows he holds her heart and has for two decades.

A smile twists her lips as she closes her eyes. "The same thing I'm always thinking about. You."

Then there was her sixth year. When he seemed to care about her as well. When he told her to shut her mouth and keep her head down. It wasn't until years later she realized that was his way of getting through it all. He'd been knocked down and he was trying to prevent her getting hit as well. She didn't love him because he was brave. She loved him even though he wasn't.

Whenever she started loving him, she loves him more than she ever has now. It's the kind of love she should have for her husband. It's the intensity she should've felt when she'd given birth, when she'd said her wedding vows, when she'd smiled at her husband as their children had grown. The hero worship of Harry would've been enough once upon a time. Maybe if she'd never met Draco. Maybe if she'd gone with Harry during her sixth year she would love him the way she's supposed to.

She knows Harry would never forgive her betrayal. She knows that if her family found out, if, heaven forbid, her children knew, her life would be over. None of them would understand that underneath the cold exterior, Draco is everything she's ever needed in a man. She'll be the first to admit she probably doesn't deserve forgiveness, though. Sleeping with a man not her husband isn't really forgivable.

It doesn't stop her.

It hasn't stopped her in the past few years, ever since the two ran into each other in Hogsmeade. Ginny had been meeting Neville to catch up at The Three Broomsticks and she'd never asked why Draco was there. But they'd collided when she'd been walking down the lane after saying goodbye to Neville. He'd grabbed her arms to keep her from falling and she'd immediately remembered how his touch made butterflies erupt in her stomach.

His eyes had darkened, obviously remembering the same thing when she'd licked her lips instinctively. Thoughts of her husband hadn't crossed her mind as Draco had followed her. They'd talked and laughed and she'd remembered just how much was missing from her life when Draco wasn't in it.

Ginny hated herself more than anything for hurting Harry the way she is, even if he doesn't know.

She loves Draco more than she hates herself.

"We should be going," Draco murmurs, finally sitting up in the bed and stretching. He's not as lean as he was when they were children although he's still deathly pale. His hair is starting to grey and he has lines on his face that make him look older than he is. She's probably one of the only ones who have seen the Dark Mark on his arm in years since he normally keeps it well-covered.

Ginny wonders whether Astoria is as blindly trusting as Harry is. It should make her feel guilty but she's glad she doesn't have to worry about him questioning her meeting Draco. She doesn't meet her lover often, not nearly as often as she'd like, but it's enough that a normal man would probably wonder.

Maybe someday she'll tell Harry she can't be married to him anymore. Someday she thinks Harry will be okay without her. Not today, though. Today, she knows that he'd break without her. And as much as she loves Draco, she cares for Harry. Breaking Harry would be like breaking one of her brothers. He's her family, always has been. She just wishes it was enough.

"Will you be at the ceremony?"

Draco shakes his head quickly at her question but she's not surprised. Every year there's a small ceremony for the victims lost in the Battle of Hogwarts and the war but this year, the twenty year, it will be bigger than ever. She knows her husband has a speech prepared, has stayed up with him late at night to help him with his words. Harry's still her hero.

"You were invited, right?"

The look in Draco's eyes would likely make anybody else apologize for the question. But Ginny knows she holds his heart as well. She also knows when to press him and when not to. "Yes," Draco responds shortly, standing up and grabbing his clothes to begin getting dressed. Ginny reluctantly sits up as well, catching her clothes gratefully as Draco tosses them to her. "But nobody really wants me there. Your husband may tolerate me because of my mother's weakness but the rest of the world doesn't."

Ginny frowns, leaving her clothes on the bed as she approaches Draco to wrap her arms around him. The fabric of his shirt rubs at her bare breasts, her arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders. His hands rest on her hips in reluctant movements, the frown evident on his lips. "I want you there."

"You don't count." Draco hesitates but he doesn't let her go and Ginny waits. She sometimes wonders what Draco sees in her but she thinks it might be this. She's always managed to see somebody good in him, somebody nobody else has been able to see. "You- Gin- I know when I'm not wanted. I've accepted it for my role in everything. As long as people treat my son with fairness then I'll take my punishment."

The self-sacrificing words don't fit the persona he always displayed when he was a teenager. But then, she knows that he's nothing like the cocky little boy he always showed off. Underneath is a deeply insecure man who never got the attention or the validation he needed. Ginny hates Lucius and Narcissa for many reasons but none more than that. "If your mother had said a word differently Harry would be dead and Voldemort could still be in power. The Malfoys deserve to be there."

Draco sighs and leans in, pressing his lips to hers in a way that's meant to distract her. She wonders whether she would understand if they were married. If she had become Ginny Malfoy instead of Ginny Potter would so many doors be closed for her? She knows things would be different. She wouldn't be the Chosen One's wife. But would people think so little of her simply because of her husband and her in-laws? Ginny isn't naïve. She knows the answer.

When he pulls away, he reaches a hand up, brushing a lock of hair off her forehead before cupping her cheek. "I love you. And you're wonderful. But I won't be going."

Ginny hears the finality in his voice and so she nods, turning her head to press a kiss to his palm. "I love you." If the world loved Draco half as much as she did, she knows his life would be different.

"Really. I need to get home," he says with a sigh, pulling away and beginning to put on the rest of his clothes.

It pains Ginny to know how different things should be. They shouldn't be in some Muggle town she can't remember the name of, in a hotel that nobody would ever think to look for them. She should understand when he says the name Malfoy isn't wanted places. The one thing stronger than her love for Draco is the love of her children but even them… they should have the name Malfoy not Potter. If she could keep them and Draco she'd give up everything else.

They shouldn't be here like this. They should be at home, laughing together, cuddled close. Their children are at Hogwarts and they should be able to make love at whatever hour they choose. Ginny should be gritting her teeth because she knows how much Narcissa tries to interfere with Draco's life and she should be biting her lip when Lucius tries to interject over their parenting.

They should but they aren't.

They never can be that.

But maybe someday they can be something new.

Ginny pulls her coat tighter around herself and tries not to feel melancholy. She'll see Draco again soon, even if it's not the way it should be.

He pulls her back into his front with gentle hands on her upper arms, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "Until next time," he says quietly. With those words he's gone, the hotel room door clicking decisively behind him.

Ginny wraps her arms around herself, closing her eyes tightly. Her stomach is in knots, same as it always is, but she knows she'll be able to pull herself together. She'll go home and cook dinner, work on her articles, write letters to her children, and pretend her heart isn't so far away. She'll give her husband a kiss goodnight, same as she has every night for the past few years. They don't touch anymore. He doesn't seem to miss it and she wonders whether he's getting satisfied elsewhere too. No. She probably wouldn't be so lucky.

A deep breath and then she leaves as well.

She shouldn't have ever been there.

She shouldn't meet Draco again next week.

But she does.

She should care more about it but she can't.

She shouldn't have to sneak around but since she does, she will. This is her life and she'll do whatever she can. Everything she shouldn't. He's always been everything.


End file.
